


Blind Eye

by jessicawitte



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M, Serial Killer Stiles Stilinski, Stiles is a Báthory
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-18
Updated: 2017-04-18
Packaged: 2018-10-20 17:54:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10667802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jessicawitte/pseuds/jessicawitte
Summary: A serial killer has been running around in Beacon Hills, and nobody knows who he is. But Stiles does, cause he is the one everyone is looking for, but they'll never find him, cause he's to smart and to good an actor to get caught, he has an IQ of 193 after all......





	Blind Eye

Stiles' dad has been called away in the middle of the night again. They found a body.... again..., a fifteen year old girl with red hair and the most beautifull blue eyes one could ever emagine, dead eyes. She was the fourteenth in a string of the most sofisticated and evidenceless crimes Beacon Hills had ever seen. The police hadn't been able to find a single clue, and the inhabitants were getting nervous. But who could blame them? 

It had all started a few months ago, a body of a toddler had been found floating around down the stream in the woods. It had been a little boy, with short brown hair and sparkling green eyes, and at first sight it had seemed as if the todler had just drowned, but after the autopsy they knew it had been foul play. There were traces of aceton in the boys blood, and though the poison was easily traceable, the killer who used it was not. One could buy aceton, or nailpolish remover, in every store in town. So the killer of Tommy Mason had never been caugth.

A few weeks later they found a second body. A girl this time, she was barely six, and yet the killer hadn't hesitated to bash in her head with a blunt object. Again there had been no traces of the perpetrator, and again the case was closed till further notice. And so they went on: finding bodies left and right, boys, girls, toddlers, teenagers, young women, with every colour hair or every colour eyes one could think of. There was absolutely no link between the victims, not even a link in the way they were killed. Everything seemed truely random.....

********************  
Stiles woke up just after his father closed the door of his cruiser. Normally he would jump up to get to the listening device to know what was going on, but Sitles already knew. There had been a body found again, and she had been so beautyfull when she died. Oh, and had she screamed as he cut open her ribcage and removed her hart from her chest.... hmmmm, his heart still sped up with excitement as he thought about it.

For him it had begun way before the killing of that toddler, way way before. His mother had died when he finaly gave in to the urge to kill, but his first victim hadn't been human, it had been dat annoying cat from the neighbours. It just kept hissing at him, so he picked up a stone and hit it till there was nothing left but a disfugured animal. And then he had just burried it in the rosebeds, and no one found out. That had been the first animal in a long string. But then after number 33 he had been ready to evolve. So he moved on to humans.

He had been only twelve when he killed his first human, it had been a small boy with soft golden curls and cherubic cheeks. He had been running around on the playground all by himself, and Stiles just couldn't resist. "Hey, little guy, shouldn't you be with your mother?" he had asked the boy, and then the kid started crying and rubbing his eyes with his little fist, telling him that he lost his mommy while playing in the woods. And so Stiles promissed him to help find his mommy, and lured the little boy to a denser part of the forest.

The boy hadn't been scared when Stiles took out the needle he had stolen from the hospital when his mom was still alive. So he told the little man that his mommy wanted him to be healthy and that Stiles was going to give him vitamins to make his mommy happy. The boy had complied with ease, and gave him his small arm giddily, so stiles took the needle, sucked in some air and emptied it in the vain in the small boys arm. It din't take long for the air to travel to the little heart, and Stiles had stayed and caressed the little boys head as they sat on the ground and the boy fell asleep.

After he had made sure the boy was dead he hid the swiped clean needle in a wel concealed hollow treebranch, and erased his footprints. He then removed every single one of his hairs or fibres from his knitted sweater, and when he was sure he wouldn't be found out he left the scene and snuck back into his bedroom.

The day after, his father came home and sighed deeply as he sat down at the kitchen table putting his head in his hands. And when Stiles asked him what was wrong he told him that a small boy had been found dead, murdered. He also told him about the crying and distrought mother that came running into the station yelling that someone had killed her beautyfull baby, and about how inconsolable she had been when she had taken them to the scene.

"He was just lying there so peacefull," the sheriff told his son, almost crying "smiling, as if dying made him so happy..... who could do something like this, Stiles?" And Stiles just squeazed his shoulder and pretended to almost cry along with his father, cause that was what was expected of a normal person, and again, his father din't notice. And as the weeks passed the police started to acknowledge that the killer wouldn't be found.

After that Stiles had been on a high. The urges that he had started feeling nonstop were gone, he could go on with his life, so he held himself on the sidelines, and everyone forgot about the little boy they had found deep into the forest. They din't even connect that murder from all those years ago with the new ones now. How stupid of them.

And so Stiles was lieing in his bed, smiling about his latest work of art, he wasn't even nervous about getting caught enymore. He knew they would never catch him, and not only because he left no evidence, but because little defenseless Stiles din't fit the profile of a cold blooded serial killer. He had worked ages to perfect this happy clumsy persona that loved his friends and his father more then anything, the sweet teen that would never hurt a flie. But it was all a mask. No one knew the real Stiles, the dark genious that observed from afar and never said a word, his IQ (193) so far of the chart that it wasn't even considered possible. The rutheless youngster that killed and calmly removed the evidence afterword, the kid that no one even knew existed.......


End file.
